The Wondrous Destruction
by WiseGurrl17
Summary: The sequel to The Shadow of the Moon, this fic takes place 2 years later. The Titans have overrun CHB, and they are forcing one male and female tribute from each cabin to compete in an event startlingly similar to the Hunger Games. I hope you like it! R&R! -WG17


Chapter 1: Nobody's Dearie

The setting scarlet sun sparkled fiercely over the horizon in my peripheral vision. I bend my head down and turn to my left, clutching my cell phone to my ear. "Yeah, Dad, we're fine. Argus is coming to pick us up now…Yeah…I have to go now…Okay. Bye." I hang up and look up at Meg. She's dribbling her soccer ball back and forth across the pavement. Her lean, athletic limbs are glowing in the late-afternoon sun. The irritating thing is that she is already insanely tan. With the additional orange hue, her skin could only, accurately, be described as Jersey Shore- bronze…Okay. Crayola has every shade of orange but that describing the disgusting tanning addictions of Snooki and Pauly D. I kind of wish they had that. My little sister would probably get a kick out of it.

A punch-packing soccer ball to the thigh jerks me out of my thoughts. "Screw off!" I yell laughing as I ram my instep into the ball. Meg blocks it with little to no effort, laughing. After her smile fades, she lets out a groan. "How much longer till Argus is here?"

I shrug. "I have no idea." I shift my bag from one shoulder to the other, I'm exhausted and can't wait to sleep in my own cabin. I feel pretty bad for Meg, who lives in a cabin with her siblings- all twenty-one of them- and some absolute strangers. Meg will be turning sixteen in July, only a few months before me, so naturally, she's one of the top dogs in her cabin. She's guaranteed a bunk in her cabin, which, living in the Hermes cabin, is a huge blessing. Then again, Meg has always had her own bunk. When we first met, at thirteen, she'd had one even then. Meg is very friendly, but she's known for having connections that enable her to do unspeakable things to you in your sleep if she wants. She gets that from her dad. Thankfully she did not inherit the compulsive thief trait from Hermes. A lot of her brothers and sisters did , but again- Meg doesn't usually have to worry about that.

Meg is a one-woman act in a lot of ways. She throws the best parties, pulls the best pranks, and gets the sweetest revenge, all while juggling the responsibility of being an Olympian warrior in training…

Meg and I aren't average teenagers. Meg is a daughter of Hermes, and I am a daughter of Artemis. Yes, the actual Greek god and goddess. We train for moments like this when we're at a crappy train station on Long Island and the pendant my mom gave me is currently burning a hole through my chest for the sole purpose of informing me that there are monsters coming to frickin' bite our heads off and spill our half-immortal blood. I reach into my bag and take out my celestial bronze dagger. Meg sees me, and silently pulls out hers as well. I typically fight with a bow and arrows, but I left mine at camp last summer, instead opting out for the much more travel-friendly dagger. The gold hilt shimmers menacingly. My boyfriend Alex gave this to me. There are countless old topazes embedded in the hilt, surrounded by the multiple gorgeous engravings of the sun that my uncle Hephaestus so expertly sculpted into the cool metal. The suns were meant to remind me of him- Alex- since he is a son of Apollo. Well, they certainly work. I can't help but wish he was here right now.

"I'll take the downstairs, you take the downstairs." Meg stalks off as I toss our belongings behind the scant shrubbery off to the side of the train station entrance. I do a quick 360. Nothing suspicious so far. The sun is sinking down, down into the embracing arms of the earth. It won't be long until its last fiery rays of light are extinguished. Taking a cleansing breath, I rush towards the rickety stairs that lead up to the station's platforms.

I climb slowly, not wanting to give away my location. I scold myself for being slightly childish in forgetting that whatever is here surely knows that Meg and I are as well. I give up my soft pad for a noisy bound that causes a rattling echo through the stone arches of the lower levels of the station.

An arrogant roar whooshes to my right, and I duck behind a bench to my left. As the train's passengers spill out onto the platform, I realize any hope of finding a particularly peculiar character is gone. I sheathe my dagger in defeat. This station is the farthest east of its route. Meg and I rode it to the end so Argus wouldn't have to drive any unnecessary miles while driving from Montauk to pick us up. The number of citizens is too overwhelming.

At this point, the anxiety is almost agonizing. I close my eyes, and grab onto the bench in front of me. I take slow breaths to try and slow my heaving chest. I feel a tap on the hand. I look up expecting to see Meg, either frantic with anticipation or bored, but I get neither. In fact, in place of where I'd imagined Meg to be, I look to see an old woman with opaque black sunglasses on. A purple headscarf covers her head and neck, and she has on a wool coat buttoned up to her neck.

"Excuse me, dearie. Is this seat taken?"

"Oh, of course not," I say, releasing my death grip on the bench and standing up. I take notice of how fidgety and embarrassed I am.

I look at the old, weathered hands clutching the leash of a golden retriever, who is wearing a harness I instantly recognize as the mark of a seeing dog.

"Bless you," she says in her old feeble voice. She smiles, her tiny teeth lined up warmly. While clearly aged, they are in decent condition.

I nod, then, realizing she can't see that, I say "have a nice night ma'am." I turn and go back down the stairs I'd used only minutes ago to come up. Meg is waiting at the foot of the loud metal staircase waiting patiently.

"Nothing," I say bluntly.

"Same here." She sighs.

"Did you get a good look at the people who came down?"

She nods. "Nothing spectacular. Just a bunch of middle-aged businessmen yapping on their phones and carrying briefcases. You?"

I shake my head. Not long after I do, I get the nagging feeling that I'm missing something. Something about the old woman. I can't quite pinpoint any riveting clues her spicy perfume or long metal cane had given me, but there's something…

I clamp my hand onto Meg's slim wrist. That's it.

I turn and hurry back up the stairs with Meg in tow, but when my eyes veer to the left at the top of the stairs, oddly enough there is no sign of her, yet the evidence that she was there is nothing less than foreboding. The strong leather leash is tethered to the metal arm of the bench. The retriever is gnawing at it angrily, barking low, rumbling barks that are both panicked and furious. Her perfume lingers in the brisk air of twilight. The purple-tinged blue sky offsets the golden street lights below and the amber glow of the old-fashioned lamps that line the platform. A dragging chill rustles through the air that makes me grit my teeth and wrap my arms around myself.

"Is that one of those dogs that assist blind people?" Meg squints even though it is only feet away from her.

"Sure is. Now let's get the hell out of here." I pull her back down the stairs, afraid to stay up there any longer. As much as I want to untie the poor animal, the goose bumps coating my body have won out. That woman looked right at me, dense glasses and all. She had a damn _seeing dog _and walked right up to me and struck up a conversation. Well, it wasn't exactly a _conversation, _but if it hadn't been so direct, it may as well have been.

"Whatsa matter?" Meg furrows her neat brows together.

I'm too nervous to raise my voice. She's still here. I can feel it. I grab our bags from the bushes looking for a sense of security. "There was an old woman up there…"

"No there wasn't."

"Shh! No, not just now. Before. That dog was hers and she had those really dark sunglasses- the ones you can't see through? Well she was wearing them. She tied her dog up and just walked away! She was sitting on that bench just a moment ago, right when I came back downstairs."

"Oh my gods, Shay! How do you know she walked away? Someone could have attacked her and bound up her dog!" She turns to go back up the stairs, her dirty blond hair flouncing in an arc behind her.

"No!" I grab her wrist. "She came up to me, Meg," I say, lowering my voice. "She came right up to me and started talking to me."

Meg's eyes widen and then return to their normal state. "Well maybe she heard you make a noise or felt the vibrations when you moved. They say blind people's other senses are stronger to compensate for the fact that they can't see."

I shake my head. "No. I didn't move or make any sort of noise…"

"You sure?"

"I was _breathing, _but that's it."

Meg purses her lips. She always does that when she thinks.

A loud crash sounds from above, followed my more rumbling growls from the dog. As I inch toward the entrance to sneak a peek at what little platform would be visible above, there's a loud shriek as Granny flings herself over the edge of the railing, bringing her stifling antique musk with her. I dart backwards, bracing myself for the splattering of blood. I ram into Meg, nearly toppling her over. I lose my incentive to say sorry when Grandma from Hell lands perfectly on all fours, crouched like a wild feline ready to spring. I hear Meg curse behind me. A low hissing sound surrounds me, filling the highest arches that could make the drop of a pin echo. But this is one solid sound, which terrifies me completely.

Meg digs her nails into my arms as the old woman goes to remove her head scarf. "Run," she says.

Without giving me enough time to react, she has spun around, and, still holding on to me, sprints to the stairs. A loud cackle sounds and I hear hurrying footsteps and a heavy grunting behind us. On the top of the platform, Meg wheels around. "You can't look at her."

"Why?"

"She's one of the Gorgons."

"What, like Medusa?"

"Her, or one of her sisters."

She grabs me and we run, stopping behind a billboard cheerfully advertising some Broadway show.

"How are we going to kill her if we can't see?" I hiss.

"Do you have a mirror?"

"No, I don't have a mirror! What do I look like, a daughter of Aphrodite?"

Meg rolls her eyes. "Just figured I'd ask."

I pull out my dagger and angel it at the doorway. The blade is bright enough to show an empty doorway, and a golden retriever that has turned a sickly shade of gray, frozen mid-bark.

"Looking for me?"

I scream

. The Gorgon is clawing around the billboard and Meg and I. Burgundy snakes lash out at me. I could cry. I hate snakes more than anything else on the planet. I'd rather go up against a Titan alone than be in a secluded room with a snake. Now there is tons of them, tongues flickering and darting, others hissing, eyes glinting, while even more still bare their ridiculously pointy fangs.

The Gorgon laughs at my horror. Her eyes are red in the reflection of my knife's blade. A brass hand rakes at my shoulder. I move my shoulder, but the swipe cuts clean across my thigh, which I had bent and pulled to my chest. Red stripes bloom across my jeans. Great.

I roll away, and stab blindly with my knife, my only sense of sight gone. She is clearly dodging me since there is no sound of disintegration. Meg has also started jabbing with dagger. I close my eyes tight and leap out at her, arm fully extended. I make contact as a brass claw rakes across my head. She jerks under my blade and curses loudly, but I can't tell if it's at me or not. I yank my dagger out of her dewy skin. I can use it to see. The blade is coated in a dark muddy substance that could only be her "blood." She lurches to my left, at Meg. I ram all of my weight on top of her, keeping a hand pressing her face into the ground.

She's not dying.

I clench my eyes shut, and spin her around while Meg helps me pin her down. I sink my dagger into her twice. I finally dare to open my eyes. I did it. I've blinded her. She's still yelling and wriggling.

Meg plunges her knife into the Gorgon's throat, and, eventually, she goes quiet and still.

"Why did that take so long?" I pant at Meg.

"Well, it wasn't Medusa," she says lifting a brass hand and letting it drop back to the cold asphalt. Medusa is the only mortal Gorgon. I think this one is Stheno. I've read about her. Psycho, this one. Anyway, she can't die. She'll start disintegrating soon, but she'll be back."

I put a hand to my neck. I draw it back. Yup, it's coated in blood. Meg and I are covered in claw marks. I can actually see a bite on Meg's shoulder.

"You're going to have a bad shiner," Meg says pointing to my cheek bone. Stheno had wailed me right before Meg helped pin her down.

"Superb. Can't wait."

Loud footsteps cloomp from the stairwell. Argus walks toward us, looking down at the scene from about seven feet above. "Ah, Stheno," he says, almost remorsefully. He scoops Meg and I up, her on his right shoulder, and me slung over his left.

"Argus?"

I can hear the hoarseness in my own voice. I cringe. "Can we bring the dog, too? I don't want to leave him petrified." He nods.

After her has laid me out on the sideways seat in the limo, and Meg is curled on the seat directly behind his own, he goes back for the statuesque dog, which he lays gingerly on the floor, his hundred blue eyes a little wet.

I feel sticky with blood all over, and I start to feel dizzy. Meg's complexion has gone pallid, and I fear mine has done the same. I close my eyes, focusing on the beating of my own heart. I pray that it will keep beating.

**(**

I'm shaken awake when a tall, muscular half-blood tries to slide me into his arms from the limo seat.

"Sorry," he says, his brown eyes wide.

"It's fine. I don't care," I mumble.

He stoops to get out of the limo, trying to maneuver me through the small door frame. I see another guy go in for Meg. There's a couple of half-bloods standing in a cluster on top of the hill. They're all staring of course. I see one of them run off. I also hear him yell "Alex!"

The guy carrying me lays me on a stretcher, and straps me on to it. He also puts a pillow behind my head. "Try not to move your neck, you'll only lose more blood."

"Okay," I whisper. He and the other guy wheel Meg and I up the grassy hill. The sun is long gone, but there are tons of lights ablaze in the strawberry patches. A lot more people are in the valley now, all of them looking ragged. I close my eyes. I don't want to see all these people I know stare at me.

"Huh?" I hear Meg's voice sound from next to me. I open my eyes.

They've wheeled us right past the Big House. The guy roughly drags me off of the stretcher, letting me flop every which way like a rag doll in his arms. He drops me onto the porch of my cabin, knocking the wind out of me.

I gasp, and then groan as I hit the wood.

"Shut up," he growls at me. I'm too shocked to even react.

He opens the door, drags me into his arms again, and drops me again inside. "We'll deal with you tomorrow," he sneers, looking at me like I'm something he's scraped off the bottom of my shoe.

"Wait!" I yell as he slams the door behind him. I cough, a little blood spilling onto my wooden floor. A soft click sounds behind me. I crawl over to my mini fridge and open it.

All of my nectar and ambrosia is gone. I don't even know what to think. The only thing I feel definitely is the panic that floods my veins, replacing all my lost blood.

I scramble to my feet, almost collapsing on my weak knees. I attempt to open the door, before realizing the lock on my door has been reversed. And it has also been locked from the outside, locking _me _in. I lunge for my windows, but they will not budge. They have been screwed shut.

I pause for a moment before I regret my doing nothing. It takes all of my strength to pick myself back up and limp over to my closet. I grab a silky silver sheet and wrap it around my thigh. I tie it tightly, a feeble attempt to stop the bleeding. I bunch up another sheet, clutching it to my neck. A wave of _I'm so screwed _washes over me. I have no ways of communication. My cell phone is in my bag, which I highly doubt those goons will give back to me. _Excuse me. I don't know what's going on here. It appears as though you thugs have invaded the camp, but I was wondering if I could borrow my phone for a minute…you know to plan my escape and all. _I couldn't exactly see that one working out.

My drachmas! I always keep a small bundle tucked away in the back of my closet. I rush over, and when I looked at the closet again, I feel disheartened. Almost everything in it is gone, save for my linens. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I slowly remove everything from my closet, setting it onto the floor. I have soon taken everything that is left out. My drachmas have been found and taken. I dig through my pockets. Aha! Got one!

I rush to the shower, so I can use the steamy mist to send an Iris Message. I only have one chance. Who should I call? My mom? Chiron? I wait for a minute, but no steam is fogging up the mirrors mounted on the bathroom wall. I reach out to touch the water, and shriek in pain at the icy temperature.

No hot water. No hot water, no mist.

I look in my bathroom cabinets. I've been left a brush, a rubber band, my toothbrush, a small bottle of toothpaste I will have to ration to make it through the summer, or at least until I can get out of here, and a roll of floss.

Thinking of all of my other possessions which are being withheld, makes me wander back into the main area of the cabin, only to take notice, since my eyes have only just finally adjust fully to the darkness, that almost all of the furnishings in my room are gone. No nightstands, no bookshelves, barely any beds. No, there isn't even a bed. Not one.

All of the bunks have been taken out, and there is only a solitary mattress in the back left corner of the room, half of it hidden in shadow, and half illuminated by the moonlight streaming into my room. I walk over to it. There is a cover sheet, and a regular sheet, bunched loosely on top.

I close the closet door in dismay, and I slump to the ground in defeat, my back to the now closed closet door, facing the darks windows and the purposefully shut cabin door. I close my eyes praying for Chiron or even Dionysus to find me. At least Meg's cabin is full- she won't be alone. That thought leads to _my _feeling alone. I wonder how long my complete isolation will last. I close my eyes- I can barely see in the dark anyway, and its not like there's much to look at, and I fall asleep. This is how he finds me.


End file.
